THRUSHES, blackbirds and small finches patrol the field beyond our garden from dawn to dusk.

I WILL miss life at the feeder when I travel abroad to hide away and finish a book about west Cork.

AFTER a week of deluges the days are brightened with a yellow sun and at night the stars glitter in a clear sky.

BY far the shortest way for me to reach Cork city from my idyllic West Cork redoubt is via the road from Timoleague to Bandon.

THE bird programmes on television are often fascinating with stories of twitchers in obsessive pursuit of rarities or dedicated birders working out how many caterpillars tits eat per day, or how may eggs a cuckoo lays and where.

HEAVENLY, is a word that springs to mind as I walk along the bay-side path on New Year’s morning.

A friend on mine, Kevin Hanley who, appropriately, sports a long, white beard, told me that some weeks ago when he was walking his dogs in Reen Wood near Castletownshend, west Cork, he came upon four of the mysterious ‘fairy houses’ as reported in the Irish Examiner.

AS I eye the copious vittles being prepared for Christmas, I remember reading that our jaw muscles are much weaker than those of our ancestors.

WHEN I saw it, I found it hard to believe my eyes, an area the size of two football pitches covered in ice on Courtmacsherry Bay in west Cork.

AT Christmas, one finds time to walk and take the air and, perhaps, time to sit at home and read a book.